Developments
by talv1914
Summary: For three days now she barely talked to him, even though they are two engaged professors, who teach in the same school. Talking again, looking at each other again makes both feel good, yet there is still a bitter feeling in the air. 'But people can see sport as a religion. They believe in it, like you do. I know how important this is for you, how you love it.' she says.


A/N: This is my entry for round eleven of QLFC. The Wasps are supposed to write about the year 1198, so I based my entry on an event that happened in the 12th century (looked it up in HP Wiki) - Goodwin Kneen writes a letter to his cousin Olaf describing an early form of the game Kwidditch.

Prompts- Write about a day someone divorces or dies. "I believe in the fundamental truth of all great religions of the world." Mahatma Gandhi. Information. Indeed, Indeed I Cannot Tell, Henry David Thoreau.

I do not own Harry Potter, obviously.

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><p>Claire can see him standing in the field all the way from the castle. The group of boys which surrounded disappeared, all of them flying up on their brooms. She isn't sure why, but she finds herself walking towards him, keeping her eyes on the students. They are flying around the empty field, playing Kwidditch. She doesn't know much about it, even though her fiancé, Mark, is the group's coach. He tried to explain the weird sport to her a few times, but all she can remember is that a few players need to throw the ball through a tree, or something similar.<p>

A few steps before she reaches the field, Claire eyes Mark. He looks fascinated by the boys' actions, which makes her heart soften a bit. Kwidditch always interested him and he volunteered himself to be Hogwarts' Kwidditch coach. Not many people support the sport, mostly because it goes through many changes, still developing, yet enough people are interested in it to continue its development. She had heard several students call Kwidditch player lunatics for being involved in such a game, mostly the teenage players, but it doesn't stop her students from wanting to play.

The biggest 'problem' with the sport is that it keeps changing and developing, which makes it difficult for some players. However, when Claire looks back at the flying figures, she realizes they are probably excited to be a part of something new, something that can be huge. Maybe that is a part of the reason Mark is so interested in this sport.

Claire crosses her arms over her chest as she passes by Mark and stops walking after a few steps. She is still angry at him and even when he is behind her, she can feel the tension between them as if he is standing right in front of her. She keeps her eyes glued to the sky, trying to follow the ball that is being passed between the players.

''I thought you didn't believe in Kwidditch.'' Mark's voice says from behind her and she can hear him stepping on the grass to stand closer to her.

''I never said that. I think it has potential.'' Claire replies with a shrug, making him smirk. ''Besides that, you know I believe in the fundamental truth of all great religions of the world.''

''Kwidditch is not a religion, though.'' He points out.

She turns to look at him over her shoulder, making his heart skip a beat. For three days now she barely talked to him, even though they are two engaged professors, who teach in the same school. Talking again, looking at each other again makes both feel good, yet there is still a bitter feeling in the air. ''But people can see sport as a religion. They believe in it, like you do. I know how important this is for you, how you love it.'' she says.

A small smile spreads on Mark's face. He loves how well Claire knows him, how she notices the little things about him. Then she turns to look back at the Kwidditch practice, reminding Mark of the fact that she is still angry. He follows her gaze and watches his students for a while, wondering what to say. An angry shout draws his attention and he looks over to see two students roaring at each other.

''Oy!'' he shouts, ''Get over it and keep playing. No fighting during games and matches.''

''Didn't you say that Kwidditch is their opportunity to let their anger out?'' Claire asks while eyeing one of the students that was shouting.

''Not on each other. It's one thing to get hurt as a part of the game, but it is a different thing if they start fighting each other and hurt each other. No one can afford personal problems up there.'' Mark says and runs a hand through his hair before he sighs. ''Can I say something? About us?''

''Depends on what you have to say.'' Claire says coldly.

''Look… I'm sorry.'' He says, lowering his voice even though no one can hear him except for her. ''I didn't mean to say anything like that, especially not about you. I acted without thinking about what the hell I was doing, I wasn't paying attention.''

''You weren't paying attention because of her.'' She says, half asking and half stating.

Mark looks to see that everything is alright with his students before looking at her. ''Fine, yes. She distracted me and I am not proud of it, but she belongs in the past. She's the snobby, awful Slytheirn, which no one likes.''

''The problem is,'' Claire says, her voice angry and quiet, ''that you acted just like her at that moment. Typical narcissist Slytherin.''

''And I regret-'' he starts saying, trying to balance his attention on the Kwidditch practice and his fiancée, but she cuts in.

''I'm a Hufflepuff and I am not ashamed of it. One of the reasons I love you is that you didn't treat me worse because of it, until that day. People love to mock Hufflepuffs, as if we are not _interesting_ or _strong_ or _important_ enough and suddenly _you _were one of these people.'' She says, her eyes showing the pain she feels.

Mark says nothing, both because he is trying to come up with something good to say and because he knows Claire has more to say. He glances quickly at his students to see that everything is alright with them and looks back at Claire, who then continues talking. ''Yes, I am a typical Hufflepuff, but that doesn't give anyone an excuse to mock me for it. I know you are a Slytheirn and it is a part of your character, but we are planning our wedding for Merlin's sake. If this is your true color, I am ready to let you leave, you can even leave with her.''

''Claire, no.'' Mark hurries to say, a frown appearing on his face as he steps closer to her. He glances again at the sky for a long moment, then allows himself to give his full attention to Claire. ''I don't want to leave you. I am not going to leave you. It was a slip, alright? I love you. I don't believe that shit about each house. Hufflepuffs are not weaker, Gryffindors are not perfect, Slytherins are not pure evil and whatever prejudice there is about Ravenclaws isn't necessarily true. It was simply a bad joke. ''

''I know that you can hate me just as much as you can love me, I remember how our relationship started, but at the end, we always love each other, right?'' he asks desperately.

''Yet sometimes against my will, My dear friend, I love thee still.'' She says, clearly quoting someone that Mark can't recognize. She adds, ''You should focus on the practice.''

He doesn't know if it is a good sign or not, but he does what she says. She turns to look back at the Kwidditch practice as well. Mark is standing one step behind her, not completely focused on what is going on in the practice, but it seems like his students get along without him. There are many thoughts running through his mind, yet he somehow manages to watch and make sure that his students are playing by the rules.

Another shout draws Mark's attention and he sees one of the students flying in circles without any control of his broomstick. He calls out for the other students to try and help the student, Martin, get back the control over his broom, but he is moving too fast. Both Mark and Claire take out their wands and aim it at the flying figure, however, their spells miss him, also because of his fast flying.

Claire tries to follow the figure along with Mark, though she ends up staring. The student and his broomstick hit a tree, which makes the broomstick break and land next to the tree, while the student is sent to hit the ground on the field's edge. Then, along with the rest of the students and Mark, she hurries towards the boy, who is lying motionless. Mark gets to him first and tries to shake his body and wake him up, but the boy doesn't move nor breath.

Mark's desperate calls break Claire's heart. By the boy's pale face, you can tell that he is dead, but it doesn't seem to stop Mark from trying to wake him up. Claire orders a few students go and call for help, while she makes her way to Mark. She sits beside him and sees the tears in his eyes. Shock is written all over his face and he keeps staring at the body. She doesn't care about the students around them, when she puts her hand on Mark's shoulder. Looking around, the shocked and broken faces of the other students make her swallow.

Claire somehow manages to balance her attention towards the students and her fiancé until the principal and a doctor appear. Then, the students are taken care by another teacher, giving her the opportunity to make Mark step away from the dead body. She sits with him on the grass and keeps whispering things to him, trying to comfort him and keeps rubbing his back and holding him, letting him know that he isn't alone. When the principal approaches them, asking for information about the incident, Claire answers what she can since Mark seems numb.

The couple sits there for hours. Claire can't bring herself to make Mark move, she just sits there and holds him. She watches the body being taken, students gathering to find out what happened and later leaving. Eventually, she and Mark are left alone in the field. It seems like Mark comes back to reality when he looks around and sees that it is only the two of them there and the setting sun. For a few seconds his expression is unreadable, but then he loses control.

''Fuck!'' his scream cuts through the silence that surrounds them. Both of them don't move or speak for a long moment, then Claire hugs him tightly, uses one hand to rub his back while he buries his head in her neck.

''You were right, Mark,'' she says in a soft whisper, ''I will always love you, so I need you to trust me now. Everything is going to be alright, I promise. _Everything will be alright_.''


End file.
